


A Midnight Snack

by rowdyhooligan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Nightmares, Orgasm Denial, Rough Sex, s10 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 17:12:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16876890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowdyhooligan/pseuds/rowdyhooligan
Summary: A nightmare prompts Reader into securing a promise from Death; he’s willing to negotiate





	1. A Midnight Snack Pt. 1

**Author's Note:**

> cross-posted from tumblr: requested by anonymous- Anon asked: So for death can you do something along the lines of the reader summons him to ask if he’s okay cause they dreamed he disappeared and he’s like I’m death I’m not going anywhere and smut???

Jolting awake, heart pounding out of your chest, you looked around wildly at nothing. You were alone, long shadows dancing against your wall as moonlight filtered through your curtains. Flinging the blankets aside, you rose and scurried over to your bedroom closet, the nightmare still fresh and vivid in your mind. When you’d gotten out of the hunting life, you had sworn it was for good. You lasted all of six months.

Digging through the dirty clothes piled on your closet floor, you pulled out the hope chest tucked away in the corner. Inside, all the tools and weapons from your old life were buried, along with all the bloodsoaked memories you wanted to forget. With the ease of familiarity, you dug out the ingredients you needed for a summoning. You didn’t bother with a spellbook; the words were so ingrained in your mind you wouldn’t be needing it.

Clad in your pajamas, you set about drawing the sigils required on your dining room table, tossing in the right ingredients and chanting the spell from memory. The match flared to life briefly before you dropped it into the bowl with a fwoosh. Fanning away the acrid plume of smoke before it could set off the fire alarm, you glanced around worriedly, anxious that the summoning hadn’t worked.

“Isn’t it a little late for such theatrics? I thought you humans preferred texting.”

Relief coursed through you as you spun around to face him. Death blinked at you owlishly, the same expression of faint amusement that he always had around you on his face. You could barely stop from launching yourself at him. As much as you would have liked to reassure yourself that he was really there, you knew he wouldn’t appreciate the sudden affection. 

“You’re alright,” you breathed out on a sigh.

“To the best of my knowledge. You seem surprised.”

“It’s just…I had a- a nightmare…” you trailed off, feeling foolish now that he stood in front of you. The nightmare had been so real, so visceral, that it hadn’t felt like a dream at all, but a vision. Seeing Dean Winchester in front of his kneeling brother, holding onto Death’s scythe, only to swing that scythe into Death had left you shaken. It had been so long since you’d had a vision, you’d hoped that they were gone for good.

“I see,” Death replied, “and you saw something that made you believe I was…injured? Or something else?”

“I saw you die,” you said shakily. “I saw Dean Winchester kill you.”

He sighed, making his way over to you and seating himself at the table. “I regret the day you ever met the Winchesters,” he mumbled to himself. Turning to you, he stated calmly, “I am Death; I can’t be killed. Even by an upstart like Dean Winchester. Rest assured that I have no intention of getting myself dispatched anytime soon.”

Seating yourself in front of him, you tried to find comfort in his words, but it was hard. If it was a vision you’d seen, than you feared for the Horseman. Your visions always, always, came true. As strange as it seemed to others for you to worry over Death, you’d always felt a connection to him, ever since the first time you’d accidentally summoned him while trying to find a cure for your second sight. He’d been annoyed at first, and you were certain that he was going to end you right then and there, but to your surprise he hadn’t.

Instead, he’d asked you if you’d ever eaten deep dish pizza and the next thing you knew, you were in Chicago going halfsies with him. He had listened patiently as you poured out your story, advising you to give up the idea of getting rid of your psychic abilities. He was blunt without being cruel and you found yourself drawn in despite knowing his identity. That was the first, but surprisingly not the last, time you went out on ‘date’ with Death himself.

“Swear it,” you demanded.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Promise me that you won’t go messing around with the Winchesters, that you don’t -” you cut yourself off, swallowing hard past the lump in your throat.

He was silent for a moment, simply watching you with a thoughtful look on his face. “You know,” he began slowly, “in all my eons of existence, I don’t believe I’ve ever met a more audacious creature than you. Certainly those that are more demanding, but somehow you manage to do so without being rude. Perhaps that explains why I find your company enjoyable.”

“What?” you asked, confused by his response.

“Were any other creature to try to make demands of me, I wouldn’t hesitate to reap them. But for you, I’m actually inclined to agree. Strange,” he said contemplatively.

You said nothing, just watching him. When he finally met your worried gaze, there was something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite peg, a look of curiosity and intent. He rose to his feet and you did likewise, not breaking eye contact even as he came in close, invading your personal space. He’d never acted this way before, and your heart fluttered as he studied your face.

“If I do promise, perhaps you will allow me to indulge in something I’ve been quite curious to try for some time now.”

“Anything,” you agreed automatically. It didn’t matter what he had in mind, as long as it kept him safe.

“Very well,” he murmured, coming impossibly closer until he stood toe to toe with you.

You took a step back, and he took another step forward. He crowded you against the dining table, the tabletop hitting the small of your back. When you had nowhere else to retreat to, Death reached out a hand and, pressing gently but firmly on your shoulder, urged you to lay down. You did as instructed, heart racing at the suggestiveness of the position, the ingredients for the summoning spilling to the floor. When he said he wanted to indulge, he didn’t mean that…did he?

“I most certainly do,” he replied in answer to your unasked question, looming over your splayed body. “If you have any objections, please feel free to voice them.”

Swallowing hard, your silence told him everything he needed to know. Death pulled a chair over, tugging on your body until your ass rested against the edge of the table, your legs dangling over the side. Your breath hitched when he sat down once more, making himself comfortable before spreading your legs wide. He trailed his fingers along your legs, hooking them into the waistband of your pajama shorts and panties. You lifted your hips when he dragged them down, leaving your lower half completely exposed.

You didn’t have a chance to feel self-conscious before you felt him pressing your thighs apart, holding you open for him. Without another word, he leaned in to drag the flat of his tongue across your slit, a moan tearing its way out of your throat. He pulled back, smacking his lips together. “As I suspected,” he mused, “you taste better than anything I’ve ever sampled before.”

With that, he dove back in, lapping at your center and pulling sounds from you that you’d never heard yourself make. His tongue danced along your opening, licking up your slick with gusto. A steady stream of whimpers fell from your lips as you got lost in the sensations he stirred within you. You tried bucking against his hold, but he held you firmly against the table, not budging an inch. He was much, much stronger than he looked.

The still night air filled with the sound of his mouth moving against you. Panting moans and the steady slurp of his tongue rang in your ears, barely audible over the roar of blood. Death nibbled on your outer lips, drawing them into his mouth. Your hard nipples strained against the the fabric of your shirt, desperate and begging for attention. Snaking a hand underneath your top, you tugged at one of the pebbles nubs, the other hand gripping tight to the table edge, nails digging into the cheap wood.

Releasing your lower lips from his mouth, Death licked his way back up your slit, delving his tongue inside to scoop out your flavor. You cried out for him, opened mouth gasps slipping out of their own volition. You were so close to release, you ached with it. The coil in your belly wound tighter and tighter, pushing you toward the edge. You knew you were done for when you felt Death’s lips wrap around your clit and suckle; you came hard with a shout, tears of agonizing bliss squeezing past your clenched eyelids.

Your orgasm tore through your body, filling your shaking limbs with lightning bolts of pleasure. It seemed to drag on for hours, Death swallowing down your slick like it was his last meal. Your inner walls clamped down on nothing as your climax went on and on. He didn’t slow down until you were begging, pleading for respite, your sensitive pussy overstimulated to the point of pain.

By the time he lifted his face away from between your legs, lips shiny with your release, you felt wrung out from pleasure. Through heavily lidded eyes, you watched him dab at his face with a napkin, looking for all the world like he hadn’t just eaten you out like a starving man. Once he made himself presentable once more, he turned to you, pulling you up into a sitting position. He pushed a damp strand of hair away from your face almost tenderly, lifting your chin up to look at him.

“Your concern for me is appreciated; I promise to watch myself should the Winchesters call. I won’t allow myself to be detained- not when I’ve just discovered the world’s finest cuisine.” You flushed at his words, your face growing hotter when he raised your hand to his lips, pressing a feather light kiss to the back. He said, “I’ll be returning for seconds, if you’re willing, but for now you should rest. And should you have another nightmare, just remember that I always keep my word.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” you whispered.

He gave you a faint smile and was gone. Suddenly exhausted, you decided against cleaning up the spilled summoning ingredients and crawled back into bed. You could always tidy up tomorrow, especially since you were expecting company.


	2. A Midnight Snack Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A run-in with the Winchesters leaves Death in a very foul mood and in need of an outlet.

Unearthly clattering in the kitchen startled you awake. Jolting upright, you sat in fear for a moment, unsure of what to do. Your first instinct was to call the police about an intruder, but you swore under your breath when you remembered you’d left your phone in the living room earlier that evening. Damn lot of good it did you now.

Rising on shaky legs, you grabbed the nearest weapon, your bedside lamp. It was pretty poor defense, but it was the best you had as you crept down the dark hallway toward the source of the noise. Every instinct screamed that heading towards the intruder was a pretty stupid idea, but the only way to get to your phone was to go near the kitchen. Swallowing hard, you mustered up the courage to peek around the doorframe. Relief immediately flooded you.

“There is a distinct lack of food in your cupboards, you know. When was the last time you bought groceries?”

Setting your ‘weapon’ down, you propped your fists on your hips in irritation. “I wasn’t exactly expecting company at two in the morning. It’s on my to-do list.”

Death shut your pantry door a little harder than necessary. You jumped slightly, caught off guard by the loud noise. He stalked over to your fridge, yanking the door open to peer at the empty shelves- it really had been a while since you went shopping. You stood quietly for a minute, just taking him in. Death hadn’t paid a visit since he’d turned you into his personal midnight snack and you were unsure of what to say to fill the silence. It was obvious just looking at him that something- or someone- had him riled up.

Approaching cautiously, you stopped him from slamming your fridge door with a soft hand on his arm. “What’s wrong? What happened to get you so worked up?”

He collected himself for a moment before turning to you. Shutting the fridge with exaggerated care, he replied caustically, “Humans. Hunters.”

“Hunters?” you repeated in confusion.

“Why I continue to allow the Winchesters to walk this earth is a mystery even to myself. I should have reaped those two years ago, before they got the brilliant idea of trying to bind me, again. That I continue to let them live can only be a sign of my generosity.”

“They…they tried to bind you?” Surely you heard that wrong. There was no way anyone could be that stupid. “Are they insane?”

“It would seem so. My patience with them wears thin. I’ll admit it was amusing the first few times they cheated my reapers, but they’re egos are getting the better of them.”

“Hey,” you said soothingly, seeing his temper rising once more as you ran a hand up and down his arm. You’d never seen him so agitated before. “It’s alright, you’re here now. What can I do to help? I can make a run to the mini-mart if you want some junk food.”

He went still, staring you down for a moment. The urge to fidget under his calculating gaze was almost overwhelming. Gripping you by the shoulders, he spun you around, pushing you up against the wall. You barely caught yourself in time to prevent face planting, palms slamming against the drywall. Heart pounding, you had a pretty good idea of where this was headed and felt yourself grow slick with anticipation. Sure enough, those long, thin fingers crept down your sides to toy with the hem of your pajama top.

“I’m not in the mood for junk food,” he whispered in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “If you’d like me to stop…”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you shot back with a breathy sigh as he slipped his fingers past the elastic band of your panties, tugging the scrap of fabric down your legs. Stepping out of them, you spread your legs wider in invitation. Death tugged your hips back, pressing a hand in the center of your spine to angle you the way he wanted. Half dressed and completely at his mercy, you damn near whimpered when his fingers brushed along your already soaked folds.

He teased your entrance with the tip of one finger, swirling the digit around in your slick before dipping inside briefly, only to withdraw a second later. He did it again and again, never giving you what you craved. All his teasing just made you want him more, and soon you were whining, straining for contact. Bucking against his hand, you moaned when you felt his finger reach deeper, brushing against your g-spot before he withdrew his hand from between your thighs entirely.

Cutting off your protest, Death reprimanded you, “Enough of that. You must learn patience- you’ll be granted release when I wish it.”

With that, he shoved two fingers deep inside your slick channel, pumping into you hard and fast. Back arching, you cried out at the abrupt intrusion, scrabbling at the wall as you were rocked back and forth. Death brought his other hand around to circle your clit, crowding in close, his hard cock pressing against your ass. In record time, you felt yourself hurtling toward the edge of release as he played your body like an instrument. Gasping for air, you tried to tell him you were close but before you got a peep out, he pulled away, leaving you achingly empty.

“No!” you shouted, nearly sobbing in frustration.

“When I say,” he reminded you, popping his slick coated fingers it his mouth with a muted groan. “Still the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.”

You were still trying to catch your breath when his fingers were back, a third digit stretching you even further. This time, he chose a slower rate, curling his fingers to catch your g-spot with every thrust. Open mouthed gasps tore from your throat as you felt your climax building once more. High pitched whines filled the kitchen, and it took a second for your lust addled brain to realize they were coming from you. Sweet release was so close you could taste it.

“Please,” you whimpered, “please.”

“Please what?” he asked. To your annoyance, he didn’t sound anywhere near as affected as you. “What do you need? Use your words.”

“Please, gotta come. Need to come,” you practically begged.

“Well then, sweet human, come,” he ordered, pressing down on your clit.

Permission granted, you were powerless to stop your orgasm from ripping through you. Head falling back in a silent scream, you rode out your climax, Death’s hand still buried between your legs. He was unrelenting, determined to eke out every last drop of ecstasy from you. Nails scratching at the wall, you gave yourself over to the white hot bliss. So lost were you, you didn’t notice when you were left suddenly empty. The jingling of his pants hitting the floor could barely be heard over your moans, and only when the blunt head of his cock nudged at your spasming slit did you react.

Death slid inside you easily, despite the fluttering of your walls as they clenched down around this new intrusion. He allowed no time for you to recover, slamming into you over and over as he set a rough pace. Still reeling from your first orgasm, you already felt another building. Death never said a word, not so much as a grunt or groan leaving him. He simply pistoned into you, the slap of his skin meeting yours filling the room. His hands dug into your hips, holding you still as he worked his frustrations out on you. You let him, knowing he needed the release just as much as you did.

Moaning out for him, you clamped your inner walls tight, holding him inside as you went crashing into another orgasm. Your vision went white as you cried out in pleasure. Light danced behind your eyes as you were pushed ever higher. Feeling your walls constricting around him proved to be too much, and you felt Death come apart inside you. Hot jets of come filled your drenched pussy, leaking out around him to drip down your trembling thighs.

Time stood still as he worked you both through your release, his hips gradually coming to a stop. Leaning against the wall for support, chest heaving and body coated in sweat, you shuddered when he pulled away, his softening cock sliding free with an obscene squelch. You listened to the sounds of him redressing himself, unable to move as you struggled to catch your breath.

A cold, wet cloth pressed against your sloppy entrance. Squealing in protest, you tried to shift away from the feeling, but Death shushed you, cleaning away the mess between your legs with tender strokes. He turned you in place, easing your back against the wall as he leaned down to finish cleaning you up. Gazing down at the black thatch of hair, you giggled tiredly at the surreal turn your life had taken: the literal horseman Death was wiping away his come after fucking your brains out.

Once you were cleaned to his liking, Death placed the soiled cloth in the garbage and helped you step back into your discarded panties. Looming in front of you, much more relaxed now than when he’d first arrived, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. He ushered you down the hall back to your bedroom, tucking you in securely, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. Sleep tugging at your heavy limbs, you leaned into the touch. You weren’t so tired out that you missed the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“Should you hear a late night intruder in the future, try to arm yourself with more than a lamp,” he advised drily.

Grinning at the note of fondness in his voice, you nodded. “I’ll do my best.”


End file.
